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Sport
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Ulrike Maier
Polluted, the water in the bathtub has become so cold
I turn the tap it's barely lukewarm
We were so beautiful, but beauty's never been nothing to feed me, to feed me
Contemplating and wondering how this chaos has become so real
I'm falling, it's fading, related, as dancers, we're dancing, as lovers, we're hating
We can try as hard as we can, not to grow in the same direction.
But it seems we're just two branches attached to the same tree.
To the same tree, the same tree.
Or two seeds planted in the same soil
The rise looks endless, a few footsteps from the cliff
A clear horizon opens up to me
I drop your hand, start running, in need of bigger spaces
Confusion becoming a simple melody
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